Bruno
by spoonsoftea
Summary: In which a lost puppy comes to Hogwarts, Flitwick and Sprout conspire, Dumbledore is smug, Snape sneers, and Minerva McGonagall really, really hates dogs. (Right?)


**Disclaimer: **I take them out to play and put them back (more or less nicely) where they belong.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was a cat person. This, she thought, was fairly obvious. She had, however, also thought that Dumbledore's genius was fairly obvious, but evidently she needed to re-examine her assumptions.

'No,' she said.

'But –' Dumbledore began.

'No,' she cut in, because apparently he hadn't understood.

'But Minerva,' Pomona Sprout whined, 'it is _so _darling.'

Minerva's vocabulary had been drastically reduced by the force of her insistence. '_No_,' she repeated, somewhat more forcefully.

'It won't hurt you, Minerva,' Severus said smoothly, sounding amused. Minerva was outraged enough to struggle for more words.

'I am not _frightened _of it,' she snapped, her voice cracking through two octaves. 'I simply do not want it near me. At all. In any capacity.'

The _thing _in Dumbledore's arms chose that moment to offer her what looked like a large grin, its tongue hanging sloppily out the side of its mouth. Its ears flopped energetically. Minerva scowled at it.

'His name is Bruno,' Flitwick told her kindly, beseechingly, his eyes on the monster. 'He's very gentle.'

Minerva glowered at the creature. It seemed determined to make her love it. It panted delightedly when she looked at it and struggled against Dumbledore's hold, as if it wanted to be close to her. She frowned.

'It's ugly,' she said.

'I think it's adorable,' said Sprout, scratching the top of its head.

'It's stupid,' Minerva tried again, waving a vague hand at the creature's useless struggles in Dumbledore's arms.

'Certainly more intelligent than any number of first years,' Severus put in smoothly, looking annoyingly smug.

'It's going to make a mess,' Minerva protested, sensing that the battle was lost.

'Come now, Minerva,' Dumbledore said jovially. 'It is a harmless, affectionate little thing. You needn't have anything to do with it, if you wish. It will live here, in the staffroom, and Pomona and Filius will care for it until we find a suitable home.'

Minerva mustered the strongest frown she could and radiated displeasure. 'It has a terrible name,' she informed her adversaries, and swept out of the room before she was forced to admit defeat.

/*/

Faculty productivity levels took a serious hit once the puppy was firmly established in the staffroom. The squirmy little thing was a magnet for wandering eyes and idle hands. Pomona took responsibility for the lost pup's outdoor walks, and Flitwick took it upon himself to feed and train the little brute. Even Severus took to refilling the water bowl with casual flicks of his wand.

'Shut up,' Minerva told the little monster one afternoon, alone in the staffroom. The pup was making high keening noises, and sounded uncomfortably like it was crying. 'This is my free period,' Minerva continued, 'and you're ruining it.'

Bruno paused for a moment, his head cocked to the side. Minerva glared at it for a moment before returning to her work.

The moment her eyes left the pup, he began to whimper again in earnest. Minerva scowled. 'Pomona will be here soon to walk you,' she informed him curtly. 'Just be quiet until then.'

Minerva was given a few moments' reprieve while she stared at him until Bruno recommenced his whining.

With a growl, Minerva pushed back from the table, snatched up her things, and stalked over to the pitiful animal. She conjured a chair out of thin air and settled next to the cage, one foot resting against the metal frame.

For the next forty minutes, Bruno napped contentedly against Minerva's boot, his soft snores the only sound save for the quiet scratching of Minerva's quill. She shot half-hearted glares at it intermittently and resisted the urge to tap against his nose in retribution.

When Pomona arrived for his walk, she raised an eyebrow and hid a smile at the sight of Minerva working next to the cage, Bruno cuddled against the only part of her he could reach. Minerva scowled fiercely and stowed her things in her bag.

'He wouldn't stop crying,' she snapped at Pomona irritably, and swept from the room.

/*/

'Care for a drink, my dear?' asked Dumbledore at the end of a quick meeting about funds.

'Go on,' Minerva sighed, and accepted a glass of scotch from the bottle he kept in his desk. She watched disdainfully as he added a few drops of water.

Minerva's enjoyment of the smooth drink was interrupted by a quiet chuckle from Dumbledore. 'What?' she demanded.

Still chuckling, he leaned over the desk and plucked a few stray dog hairs from her robes. 'It seems the others have been spreading their love,' he said, holding them up for her to see.

Minerva groaned. 'I can't escape it,' she sighed, taking a large swallow. 'And don't think you're off the hook, Dumbledore. I haven't forgotten that you're the one who brought the brute inside the castle in the first place.'

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her. 'Don't think _I_ don't know about _you_, Minerva,' he replied, amused. 'You certainly don't hate the pup as much as you pretend.'

Minerva tossed back the remainder of her scotch and stood. 'You're wrong,' she told Albus Dumbledore and his infuriating smile, and swept out the door.

/*/

Minerva took to talking to the creature when no one was around.

It was, of course, a means of expressing her distaste.

'You really do have an awful name,' she told him one afternoon in early October, fixing them both a snack. Ginger Newts for her, dog biscuits for him. 'I'd be crying too if I had a name like yours.'

Bruno yipped in agreement. Minerva slid his treat in through the bars of his cage with her foot and considered. 'It doesn't suit you,' she continued, settling into the armchair that had become her usually perch on free periods. 'As far as ugly creatures like you are concerned, I suppose you aren't entirely unappealing.' Bruno gave a stare she equated with an eye roll.

'Very stupid, though,' she told him, annoyed. 'Anyone can see that I'm the last person you ought to be pestering for attention.'

Bruno gave her his most pathetic look.

'I like _cats_,' Minerva insisted. Bruno did not look like he believed her.

/*/

In early November, Pomona and Minerva took a walk around the lake. Minerva was horrified to find the monster waiting for her, panting eagerly and attached to a leash.

'What is _that _doing here?' Minerva asked in revulsion, stopping in her tracks. Bruno did not appear to be offended.

Pomona shrugged. 'It's time for his walk,' she replied evenly.

'No,' said Minerva. 'I am not walking with this thing.'

'He'll just trot along and sniff things,' Pomona argued, as Bruno proved this by smelling Minerva's shoes. She shook him off and stepped back.

'He'll slow us up,' she argued.

'Come on, Minerva, it isn't as if you'll have to scoop up his –'

'_That_,' Minerva interrupted abruptly, 'that right there is where I draw the limit on this conversation.'

Pomona shrugged again and started off. After a moment, Minerva sighed and followed in her wake, careful to distance herself from the horrid canine lest anyone mistakenly associate her with its unseemly tugging and barking.

She thought longingly of her childhood cat, with its quiet dignity and soothing presence.

They reached the lake and began to circle around it, Bruno sniffing eagerly at everything remotely interesting. Minerva ignored the pup as diligently as possible, watching out of the corner of her eye as it tripped over its overly-large paws and pranced around with its tail in the air. It was a lovely day, unseasonably warm with a pleasantly cool breeze. The witches' robes flapped gently about their ankles as they walked.

'What a sweet little thing!' cried a young Ravenclaw student from behind them. He was gazing at the pup with wide eyes, two other students with him and watching Bruno with similar expressions of longing. Pomona smiled invitingly.

'You can pet him,' she called to them kindly. 'He's very friendly.'

The second-years surged forwards enthusiastically, holding out flat hands for Bruno to sniff. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as they scratched his head and shoulders. Minerva tried to restrain the frown that was threatening to crease her brow.

'He's lovely,' said the girl, scratching under the pup's chin. 'Does he live in the castle, Professor?' The question was posed to Sprout – perhaps the students realised Minerva would not be forthcoming.

'Only for now,' Pomona assured them. 'Just until he finds a home.'

Minerva bit back her doubt that anyone was actually _looking_.

'What's his name?' asked the second boy.

'Bruno,' replied Pomona, and Minerva actually rolled her eyes.

There was a high-pitched yip from the pup as the first boy accidentally poked his index finger into Bruno's eye. 'Watch it!' Minerva snapped. 'Be careful, Davies.'

'Sorry, Professor,' muttered Davies. Pomona gaped at her.

/*/

Bruno caused minor chaos in mid-November by learning to release the latch on his cage.

'Can't you do something about this?' Severus snarled at Filius one morning as the escaped pup nearly tripped him over. Minerva was pleased she was no longer the only one who was disgruntled about the brute.

'He's just excited,' explained Filius, trying to reign the over-eager animal despite the fact that it rivalled him in size.

'Then perhaps you ought to calm him down,' suggested Severus through gritted teeth.

'I will, I will,' said Filius distractedly, gripping the bouncing pup by the collar.

Severus made a sound of disgust and stormed from the room. Filius gave up once he was gone and climbed onto his usual seat at the large oak table. Minerva joined him and the two worked in companionable silence until the bell rang for lunch.

'I suppose that's my cue to leave,' Minerva announced, and stood up, pushing her chair back as she did so. The high-pitched yip resounded immediately as the foot of the chair ran over Bruno's paw. Minerva swore before she could stop herself and scooped Bruno into her arms without thinking.

'Poor baby,' she muttered, rubbing gentle circles on Bruno's sore paw. 'Let me see. This is what happens when you're in places you shouldn't be.' Bruno looked up at her with wide eyes, as if baffled by the idea of pain. Minerva held the pup to her chest and sighed, rocking him gently.

Filius was staring at her as though she'd descended from another planet, a grin unfurling slowly on his face.

She was _so _screwed.

/*/

On a December afternoon, Minerva was sitting at the table in the staffroom, noting the students that would be staying at the castle over the Christmas holidays. Dumbledore entered the rooming humming 'God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs' and sporting festive red and green robes. Sprout followed behind, looking cheered.

'Where's the baby?' she asked, looking about the room for Bruno. Minerva waved a vaguely dismissive hand and continued working. Sprout refilled the water and food bowls as Dumbledore made a fresh pot of tea.

'Fancy a cup, Minerva?' he offered.

Minerva put down her quill and stretched, letting the roll of parchment spring back into shape. 'No, I'd best be off,' she sighed, standing.

Bruno yipped in protest as she stood and sent him tumbling out of her lap, where he'd been napping peacefully hidden beneath the table. Minerva froze as Bruno shot her a deeply unimpressed look, stretched, and trotted over to his cage for dinner. Pomona and Dumbledore were looking at her, Pomona disbelieving, Dumbledore deeply amused.

'He escapes,' Minerva sniffed with her nose in the air, a blush suffusing her cheeks, and left the room without looking at either of them.

/*/

Three days before Christmas, Bruno and his belongings disappeared. Minerva resisted asking as long as she could, and gave up four hours later.

'Where's the monster?' she inquired casually of Dumbledore over a light dinner in his office, ignoring the knowing glance he sent her.

'Filius found him a new home,' he told her with a bright smile. 'Be glad, dear Minerva. Your little horror is gone at last.'

'Hmm,' said Minerva, and left the room.

/*/

On Christmas morning, Minerva met Dumbledore in his office to exchange gifts. They enjoyed a quiet cup of tea together as they unwrapped various presents, a tradition that started nearly from the moment Minerva had arrived at Hogwarts three decades ago.

After the usual trade, Dumbledore nudged a large box over to her with a smile. 'A little something extra this year for you, my dear.'

When Minerva opened the lid, Bruno leapt out at her and covered her face with messy kisses. Minerva debated with herself with less than a second before drawing both Dumbledore and her new personal monster into a tight embrace.

/*/

Almost fifteen years later, Minerva McGonagall finished a meeting with the newly-reformed Order of the Phoenix and was decidedly late for her latest subterfuge assignment. She got to her feet just as the horde of red-headed young Weasley children swarmed into the kitchen.

'Be safe,' Dumbledore told her over the din.

'Of course,' she replied, ignoring the children's eager looks for information.

'Pity your Animagus form isn't a dog,' Dumbledore said, amused. 'You might blend in better, in this case.' The younger Weasley children looked on raptly.

Professor McGonagall frowned. 'I hate dogs,' she reminded him archly.

A muffled snort from the back of the kitchen drew the Weasleys' attention. To their horror, Snape was smirking with genuine amusement, making a noise that could only be laughter.

_Fin._

Reviews are love.


End file.
